Thanatophile
by Tomas the Betrayer
Summary: A vivid dream has our lustful little Tsubaki facing a bit of a scandal, one even Death might not offer an escape from.
1. Chapter 1

"Welcome to the First-Kill Soul Celebration for this quarter. May I see your tickets?"

Meister and Weapon both held out their invitations as well as their ID tags. The DWMA attendant checked these against his list and handed them back. "Thank you. Please enjoy the evening, and congratulations."

Both kids grinned and fairly ran past him. No doubt they were eager to converse with their fellow One-Star students and boast about who had the toughest time bagging their quarry. It was the same thing every few months. All of them had finally engaged in that first life-or-death battle and survived to tell the tale. Now it was time to celebrate their triumph, that of good over evil, life over death. Such was their calling.

Another pair approached the entryway to the banquet hall attired in their Sunday best. The attendant smiled. "Congratulations on attending this quarter's First-Kill Soul Celebration. Do you have your tickets?"

Changing his greeting kept him from falling into a rut. When you were engaged in repetitive activities, variety was not only the spice of life, it was the only thing keeping you from climbing the walls sometimes. He made sure the tags and invitations matched before sending them on their way. Idly the young man wondered which of those two was the technician and which the weapon. With some teams you really couldn't tell.

Dusk was upon them, the sun no more than a bare sliver on the Nevada horizon. The hall was now teeming with garrulous youngsters. Somewhere in that crowd of frenetic energy might lurk the next Death Scythe and Three-Star meister. It was hard to credit by only looking at those glad smiling faces. Anyone untutored to the ways of the Death Weapon Meister Academy wouldn't see past their youthful facades to the proven combatants beneath, each responsible for ridding the world of at least one evil soul. Blood stained their hands without a doubt. Unlike other law-enforcement agencies, the DWMA had no members who did not carry the burden of having taken another person's life. It was interesting from a purely academic angle to make the comparison, especially considering how…

Someone else was approaching. Immediately he shook himself free of these ponderings and turned to meet them. "Be welcome this-"

A foot plowed into his back hard enough to send him stumbling to his knees. Before he could react, any outcries were silenced by the touch of a sharp blade to his neck. His head was pulled up, and he caught the barest flicker of an eerily psychotic grin.

"YA-HOOOO! This'll make two souls! DIE, EVILDOER!"

Someone's…

Someone's going to _kill me!_

"Huh? What's that?"

It didn't seem as though the question was directed at him, and anyways the attendant was still too stunned by the prospect of his impending demise to respond if it was. He remained still and silent in his attacker's grasp.

"Because of his face! Didn't you see that cruel, menacing glare? He's got to be evil!"

There was silence for a time.

"Yeah, First-Kill Soul Celebration! That means we kill the first soul we see, then everybody celebrates us, right? Right?"

Now the silence held an emphatically cross quality to it.

"Oooohhh… I get it now. Well, okay, then."

And with that the knife was withdrawn from his neck.

"Here you go."

Trembling, the gate attendant looked up to see an ID being thrust into his face. He caught a glimpse of what looked to be a picture of a fist heading towards the camera, besides which was a name. Black*S-

"I need to make my grand entrance now, everybody's probably been waiting for me. See ya!"

"I'm very sorry for this, sir, please forgive him!"

Someone might have offered a humble bow at that point. A short shadow passed by where he knelt, followed by a taller one. By the time he thought to look, they were both around the corner.

After that, the monotony of his job was nothing to worry about.

* * *

"EVERYONE! HANDS IN THE AIR! BLACK*STAR IS THE NAME OF A MIGHTY WIND THAT BLOWS AWAY OTHER SMALLER NAMES!"

All heads turned at this pronouncement.

At the entrance to the hall, Black*Star stood with his legs planted apart, one arm raised and a single finger pointed skyward. The spiky-haired little preteen wore a look of indefatigable confidence.

"DID YOU FORGET YOUR NAMES YET?" he roared excitedly.

Beside him, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa subtly shaded her eyes with one hand, hoping no one would recognize her.

In the deafening quiet that resulted somebody said, "Oh, it's just him."

Then the music started playing and they all went back to their conversations.

The Shadow Weapon Technician and Demon Shadow Weapon looked about at the rest of their fellow attendees. It wasn't lost on either of them how many people were studiously ignoring the two new arrivals.

Black*Star dropped his hand and adopted a smug grin. "See how everybody stared at me?" the young warrior declared. "Betcha they've never met anybody this big in their whole _lives!"_

"You're right," his partner murmured in agreement. "They probably haven't." Tsubaki glumly watched her boisterous teammate puff up at the idea of his own magnificence. She wondered at his absolute imperviousness to humiliation. A weapon was supposed to defend their meister from all threats, but in the case of Black*Star, a certain saying from her homeland came to mind: 'The worst enemy lies within the self'. Glumly the ninja girl hoped at the very least she could endure this awkward shame as assuredly as he did.

"Huh. Nobody's coming forward to get an autograph," Black*Star stated curiously. He looked as though he was confused by this normal everyday occurrence. Then his eyes lit up. "I get it! They're not used to seeing my face, because I'm so far ahead they usually only see my back!"

As usual, his train of logic was cursed with no conductor, a shortage of track, and potentially explosive cargo. A wreck was inevitable unless someone was there to throw the brake switch. And that just happened to be Tsubaki's job.

"Black*Star, before we mingle, why not get something to eat first?"

"Good idea. I'm starved!"

After that he spotted the buffet table and headed over to scarf down food, in spite of having already gorged himself at lunch. The taller girl watched him go with a sort of parental fondness. Tsubaki did all the cooking for them, and she was more than happy to make enough to satisfy even his big appetite. It was part of her culture. All the same, the kid never turned down a free meal. Growing up without parents meant Black*Star was severely lacking in social niceties. Still, by his own recent admission, the loss of his clan made no impact on his personality whatsoever. He remained as cheerful as any kid his age.

His oriental Weapon appreciated that more than he might know. Were it not for Black*Star's support, she wouldn't even be attending this get-together.

While everyone else here had most likely never met the evil people they had slain to get in the door, their first kill was Tsubaki's own brother. Locating and destroying him had been her sole reason for abandoning the Nakatsukasa family's traditions to enroll at Shibusen. Masamune's fall from grace and ultimate death still stung, but she took solace that in those last moments he was finally released from the madness that had prompted her elder sibling to become a kishin. Brother and sister had made peace with one another. This was an even greater blessing than the powerful Uncanny Sword she had inherited from him as a result of taking his soul. As such, Tsubaki had felt no shame when her friends celebrated their triumphant return. Now she and Black*Star would join the other faithful students of the DWMA who had begun their journey on the road to making a Death Scythe.

Glancing around, she permitted herself to appreciate the warm and friendly atmosphere. I just need to focus on our goal, Tsubaki affirmed. One soul down, 98 and a witch to go. Of course, given the pace we're going at, by the time we've completed our quota, I'll be sixty-five. An unpleasant image of herself and a sixty-two year old Black*Star attending yet another ceremony surrounded by a bunch of kids made the gentle teen cringe. Even now, she was several years above the average age for this gathering. Most of the girls hadn't even started to develop secondary sex characteristics yet. Her own curvaceous figure stood out among so many flat chests. Were some of the boys staring at her? In a sleeveless pale yellow dress with a camellia affixed to her bodice, she wondered if perhaps this choice of clothing was a little too revealing.

Wolfing down barbecue chicken wings, Black*Star looked as though he had gotten dressed in the dark. The jacket didn't match the pants, his tie hung askew, and unless she was severely mistaken his socks were mismatched. He caught her looking at him, and then as if to defy her silent scrutiny, declared in a voice that carried across the hall, "I'm the most conceited man alive!"

You'd have to be, wearing that outfit, she thought. Not for the first time Tsubaki wished that her meister had never learned the word 'conceited'. Or at least that the person responsible for introducing him to it had bothered to explain the negative connotations.

Outwardly, all she did was give him a thumbs-up.

Black*Star grinned happily at the apparent support. Despite her reservations, Tsubaki couldn't help but smile back. He was a shameless self-promoting goof. But he was _her _goof. She cast a sharp glance around at the other students. Let nobody else say a mean thing about that boy. And as if hearing her threat, any and all who had been engaged in whispering broke off and moved away.

After satisfying herself on that score, Tsubaki turned back to find that Black*Star was gone.

Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly she looked around, but to no avail.

Oh, _no_. I have to find him!

Keeping a watch on her volatile partner was one of her major duties at the Academy. There's no telling what kind of trouble Black*Star could get himself into in this kind of setting. If he suddenly took it into his head to start casually attacking people, like he had with that man at the entrance, they might find themselves thrown out on their ears, possibly expelled, and maybe even placed on Shinigami-sama's target list! A sudden image of herself and Black*Star as dirty bedraggled fugitives entered the anxious weapon's mind. Living on the run, no home to speak of and forced to take the dirtiest jobs just to get by… NO! It can't end like this! I HAVE to find him!

I really should invest in a leash.

Attempting to appear relaxed and at ease, Tsubaki forced a smile on her face and strolled casually amidst the partygoers. The animated conversations of dozens of students came from all around, but never once did she catch her meister's unrestrained bellows of self-aggrandizing gusto. Usually Black*Star would be an easy target to pick out in a crowd. By his nature he had to be the center of attention at any given moment. A big gathering of people like this should have had him itching to bust loose in a way that would shine a harsh spotlight of boundless public shame on the both of them.

And yet there was nothing. Not so much as a 'ya-hooo' or trail of food to mark his passing. It was as if the brash young ninja had melted into the floor. After a few minutes of cautious searching, Tsubaki had to admit she was getting pretty worried. Could something bad have happened to him? Maybe Black*Star finally picked a fight with someone he couldn't handle. It was hard to imagine him having any trouble with a bunch of One-Star meisters, but the students of Shibusen Academy were not to be taken lightly in a fight. Now it was less a matter of saving herself a trip to the principal and more making sure the boy she had sworn herself to defend didn't wind up in the nurse's office.

Music was playing. The kids were enjoying each other's company and chatting about their academic accomplishments. Under normal conditions she might have actually had a good time. As things stood, the multi-purpose weapon found herself flitting among the guests. Everyone she asked appeared ignorant as to his location, and even less likely to care after that appalling entrance. Tsubaki got the distinct impression that they were also avoiding her company as a result.

He wasn't here. Had he left, gotten bored and gone home? No, Black*Star wouldn't just abandon her like that. He may behave badly, but he never forgot his friends. That was one of his nicer qualities. It made more sense that he was deliberately hiding his presence, doubtless with the intention of pulling off yet another grandiose display. He was a Shadow Meister, after all, one well-schooled in the principles of concealment and assassination. That last part might prove troublesome considering how dumb he could be.

In that case, what I should be doing is trying to locate an assassin.

The shinobi teen now stood on the fringes of this gathering. Her special senses strove to locate any telltale hint of subterfuge that might be helpful. A ninja was actually easiest to locate by what they didn't do than what they did. If there was light, they were in shadow. If you heard noise, look elsewhere to a place that is silent. The lack of presence was the key. Detect the special zone of emptiness her kind shrouded themselves in to avoid detection or even being noticed. While not as adept at soul perception as her friend Maka Albarn, Tsubaki was capable of detecting their signatures to a certain extent. Considering Black*Star's near-total disinterest in any soul except his own, it was imperative one of them have a mind for that sort of thing.

Now focus. Concentrate on any soul that is in hiding. Try to find the person separate from everything that is occurring here and…

Wait. There's something.

Or rather, nothing. For a moment it was like she had detected a shadow out of the corner of one eye, right on the very edge of her vision. When she looked at it directly, however, no sign of any such thing appeared. Just an empty patch of air near a potted palm. But some instinct told her not to discount this. It was precisely what she was looking for.

Without any outward sign of eagerness, the huntress wended her way over towards that spot. Don't stare, she advised herself. Whatever was there seemed to disappear if you looked too closely. It was only visible on the very edge of your vision, past the point of anything the brain could verify with a degree of certainty. This shadow-zone, as she liked to call it, was apparently on the move. It had passed along the wall away from where it had first been spotted. Now Tsubaki was certain it must be Black*Star. He knew she was on to him. Don't let him get away! For a moment she lost the trail, and thought he had escaped. Then there was the barest hint of movement from a curtain by the balcony windows. Like a gust of wind had stirred it; or more likely, something unseen had passed outside.

Yes! Tsubaki exulted, and moved in for the kill.

She stepped onto the balcony and glanced around, one hand resting on the doorframe. It was completely dark now, the sun having long since gone down. Only the stars remained to shine upon the barren land. A few of her fellow partygoers were out here enjoying the view of their city and its environment, mainly boys trying to chat up girls before heading back to the festivities. Whatever their intentions, they all beat a hasty retreat inside when they saw the look on her face.

Tsubaki barely noticed their departures. She was too intent on locating the source of her troubles. Maybe forty feet of total area to hide in out here, and most of that was bare space illuminated by the light streaming in from outside. Off to the edges was fair game, however. The curved balcony wall actually began a few feet to the right and left of the doors. That left a small slice of shadow for an assassin to potentially hide in. Assuming he wasn't hanging off the railing by his fingers.

Best check on that possibility. So resolved, Tsubaki made her way aimlessly over to the edge of the parapet and glanced over it. She inspected down and to either side, but nothing caught her eye. Even Black*Star would have difficulty avoiding her attention while clutching desperately with his fingers in the rock.

It was while her back was turned that movement came from a spot beside the entrance.

This did not go unnoticed.

Exhaling, the girl ran a hand through her gleaming black hair. A kunai slid between her fingers from its hiding place in her ponytail. Control your breathing, perception, everything about yourself. Wait for the target to let down its guard.

Behind her the unseen presence paused, as though sensing her preparations. When she continued to appear absorbed in studying the landscape, though, it finally moved again.

Got you.

Quick as a flash Tsubaki spun and sped forward. The shadow-zone was already moving to head her off and escape inside. Before it could, though, the young ninja yanked on the line of string she had secretly tied to one door handle, slamming it shut in their face. The shadow seemed to reel back from this unexpected move. And then she was right there, grabbing hold with one hand and bringing up her weapon in readiness.

"Got you!"

A strange smooth feeling registered on her fingers.

Huh? What is this?

Then all she could see before her was black.

"Ermmm… Tsubaki-chan?"

Astonished, she looked up.

Looming over her, Shinigami raised a white-gloved finger to his mask and saluted.

"Yo?"

I'm going to die. From mortification, if nothing else.

* * *

"Sorry to freak you out there."

"No, please accept my apologies, I'm so ashamed of myself, I should never have touched you like that, it was a terrible horrible mistake, I humbly beg your forgiveness, Shinigami-sama!"

"Uh-huh," he said casually. "Now let's relax, breathe, take a deep calming breath…" The master of Shibusen reached out and deftly plucked the kunai out of her grip. "And everything's good."

Perhaps he had been worried she might commit seppuku with it. Well, that still remained an option. Tsubaki could feel her face burning with shame. Nothing Black*Star had done could ever equal this self-inflicted torment. I just manhandled the God of Death himself! Standing trembling before her benefactor, it was difficult to imagine a more uncomfortable situation. At least they were alone out here. An audience might be the only thing that could have made things worse. She could see them all now, pointing and laughing at her. The mere thought made Tsubaki think she might break down and start crying right here in front of him.

Shinigami had closed both doors to grant them privacy. The strange zig-zaggy outline of his body shifted slightly, and he bent over until that blank empty-eyed mask was right in her face. "Hey, Tsubaki-chan, there's really no need to be upset. If anything, you should feel proud!"

Okay, that required some explaining. "Sir?"

"Yeah, yeah!" His squiggly hood bobbed up and down. "After all, you had the wherewithal to notice a potential threat hiding in the midst of all these students and acted to subdue it!"

"Oh." Apparently he had misconstrued her intentions. Well, perhaps we should let him go on believing that. It wouldn't be proper to correct a deity, after all.

"And that's not all!" Shinigami insisted while raising a finger for emphasis. "You actually caught _me! _The Reaper himself! How many people can lay claim to that, I wanna know?"

Well, yes, that was true. And perhaps there was a certain merit in being able to pull off something like this. Death had been sneaking around a whole room of spiritually sensitive people, and she alone had picked up on his presence. Not a bad deal.

"I… suppose you're right."

"Atta girl!" And he drew himself up once more.

At this point it finally dawned upon the flustered ninja that she was standing in the presence of Death himself. Not just his image in a mirror like she was used to, but the real deal not three feet away from her. How many other people could boast such a distinction? It was so unnerving, so exciting!

As Tsubaki stared at the heights of this towering entity, a thought occurred to her. Dare she ask? Oh, what the hell, why not?

"Er, Shinigami-sama?"

"Ah-huuuuh?"

So weird.

"What exactly are you… doing here? Is something bad going on?"

"No, no, nothing bad," Shinigami commented with a languid wave. "I attend each of these First-Kill parties to get a feel for how the kids are doing."

Oh. Never knew that.

Well, curiosity resolved. Now would be an excellent time to humbly excuse herself, beat a hasty retreat and thank her lucky stars that Death had such a kind and understanding personality.

Yes, that's what any smart, sane person would do.

Instead Tsubaki found herself asking, "So then why were you hiding?"

She immediately clapped her hands to her mouth, but too late. The Shadow Weapon couldn't believe what she had just said, not to mention how she said it. It sounded as if she were accusing the Reaper of skulking around like a common criminal! Now more frightened than embarrassed, she tried to apologize but couldn't seem to make her tongue work. All Tsubaki could do was stare wide-eyed at the blank white mask glowing against pitch-black robes like a second moon in the night sky.

Shinigami cocked his cowl to one side.

"I just don't want to take away from the evening."

The idea was so surprising it shocked her mouth back into working order. "Pardon?"

In response Death glided past her, sliding smoothly over the floor on the twisted stalk of his lower half. There was something undeniably graceful in the way he moved. Wrapped in that form-concealing robe, he didn't resemble a human. But when he came to the glass partition and peered inside, Tsubaki could swear there was a sense of wistfulness in the way he gazed at the lively fiesta underway.

"It's just that this night is supposed to be about them, not me. What they've accomplished," the embodiment of the afterlife stated. He then looked back to her. "And you, Tsubaki-chan. It's no small thing you have done, coming to Death City and volunteering to fight for us. Shibusen appreciates everything you young people must endure, whether it be struggling in school or risking your lives against human evil. That's why we try to make your stay here as enjoyable as possible."

One large glove now swept out to encompass the twinkling lights that spread out across the western desert. "This is your home. And I'm glad to find so many of you are proud to be residents. You live here, with each other. It's not perfect, mind, but it's a sight better than what other cities or even schools consider worthwhile."

He then beckoned for Tsubaki to come stand beside him, and she quickly obeyed. The two of them stood side-by-side and watched as the gala indoors played out through song and laughter. She wondered if anyone would notice them peering in, but apparently Shinigami had activated that ability to evade notice again. No one so much as looked their way or made an attempt to join them out here.

The living symbol of the academy now spoke in a gentle vein. "In terms of a school and weapon-meister academy, Shibusen has fulfilled every hope I ever had for it. And more than anything I want you all to realize how that draws mainly from your own courageous actions, not simply from my presence here. It may be Death City, but it's not Death's City." He then scratched his faceplate self-consciously. "Er, if you see what I mean."

Tsubaki gave him a stricken look. Had she just heard right? "Shinigami-sama, I'm afraid I don't see. Do you think your presence would in any way lessen their enjoyment? If you were to walk inside right now, every child in there would welcome you with glee. They would be as honored to stand in your presence as I am now! Surely you can see that?"

He nodded his head. "Yes. And all eyes would be upon me. They would forget to ask each other how they were doing, or wonder how their first battles had gone. Those incredible achievements would pale before the fact that Death had decided to grace them with his presence. That is what they would remember about tonight. No one would want to hear about their stories, how they struggled to make it back here alive. And I'd much rather that bravery be honored than any mystique I might represent."

The implication hit suddenly, so familiar Tsubaki felt surprised she hadn't realized it sooner. It was about being recognized. This was precisely what Black*Star was so intent upon. But while he strove to be the center of attention, Shinigami sought to make his emphasis at the DWMA secondary to the people who worked under him. The idea made her look at that slightly comical form without any trace of fear now. She was actually smiling, touched by Death's consideration for all they had gone through in his name.

"Which is why I always attend these events, but never openly," he finished. "I like seeing for myself how you all stand so strong together even if I'm not around. Gives me hope for the future."

"I understand, Your Lordship. Thank you for explaining it to me."

"Meh, don't mention it."

They stayed that way for a few minutes more. After a while Shinigami turned and drifted over to the balcony. Tsubaki followed and leaned against it, studying him. Something he had said troubled her, and kept the young woman from going back indoors with the rest in search of Black*Star. It had sounded for a moment there like he was talking about Death City and its residents existing without him. Of course that wasn't possible. This place was his. What could ever make the Grim Reaper leave them? Not like people would ever stop dying, after all. There would always be Death.

Wouldn't there?

Curiosity almost compelled her to ask. However, in this instance, manners took precedent. This could be a personal matter that had nothing to do with her. She had no right to pry.

However, as a reward for being such a good person, Tsubaki decided to seek the answer to another question that had been on her mind.

"Shinigami-sama, if it's not too much trouble, may I ask you one more thing?"

"Of course. Fire away."

"It's about the Death Scythes."

He regarded her from behind those empty black pools. "You certainly have a right to know, considering it's your goal to become one. So what's the question?"

Perhaps he was being so considerate to her because he knew what she had gone through with Masamune recently. No sense in turning down his graciousness. "I was just wondering…" And here she took the time to choose her words carefully. "Forgive me if this sounds impertinent, but why exactly do you need a Death Scythe? Why not simply use any regular Weapon? Is there a reason we have to get 100 evil souls, and one of them being a witch? Not that I'm complaining!" she added hastily, "It's just that with all the effort it took for me to take even one life, I can see why only a handful of Death Scythes exist in the world. But there are many Living Weapons for you to choose from. I guess what I'm asking is, why do you need us to get a hundred souls?"

"Well, Tsubaki-chan, the truth is it's more necessary on your end than it is on mine."

He could see she didn't understand, and so he continued, steepling his big blocky fingers in front of his face. "You might think of the hundred as a sort of… minimum requirement. We figured that out a long time ago. Evil souls don't have as much spiritual power as good ones, if you'll recall. But ninety-nine of them, however weak they might be, plus the magic of one witch, meets the necessary limit. And anything beyond is overkill, if you'll pardon the pun. Without at least that much power within a Weapon, there is no way I could ever use it, regardless of our compatibility."

Tsubaki frowned, puzzled. "Milord?"

"I'm not human, you see. Were I to attempt to transfer my soul wavelength into a Weapon who had not achieved the rank of Death Scythe, they wouldn't be able to function properly. We're talking mighty big wavelength here!"

Was he being serious?

"Forgive me, Shinigami-sama, but it seems hard to believe there can be no middle ground. Suppose the Weapon has an extremely powerful soul to begin with. Wouldn't that balance it out somewhat so that they would only need, say, 85 evil souls and a witch?"

Shinigami just made a tsking noise and shook his head. "Nope. Sorry, never gonna work, young lady. Aside from the shortcut you and Black*Star attempted with the samurai Mifune, it can't be done. One hundred is the magic number, no ifs, ands, or buts about it." He cast a glance at her that could be described as mischievous. "You see, it's a _very_ big wavelength."

Now she felt certain he must be teasing her. It made her cheeks redden with warmth. The heiress to the Nakatsukasa clan pondered this. Was Shinigami-sama, who was well-known for being irreverent, simply joking around with her? Come to think of it, having met Mifune, she had to wonder if his soul qualified as evil. Powerful, definitely, but from what she saw, not truly malevolent. Perhaps just so strong as to appear so to any who were weak. The same way Death would frighten those who did not know him well, even if they themselves had no cause to fear his wrath.

Could these thoughts be considered rebelling against authority? Well, it was a common teenage practice. With this idea to comfort her, Tsubaki looked up at him and lightly stated, "I believe I could handle you in my current state, Lord Death."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." Very emphatic.

He crossed his skinny arms over his chest. "Hate to disappoint, but… no."

There was a certain wicked thrill in baiting the Reaper like this. "Don't discount me, Milord. As you might know, accommodating to my partner's soul is one of my specialties. Unlike most Weapons, I can handle being wielded by any number of different meisters who would be incompatible with others. You should be no different."

"Huh-unnn." Shinigami shook his head in a negative fashion.

And Tsubaki found she couldn't resist.

"Would you care to try me out?"

Death considered her for a time without saying a word. Then at last he uncrossed his arms and said, "It won't be like anything you can imagine."

"I'm prepared to accept the consequences. I trust you, Shinigami-sama. You wouldn't do anything to hurt me, after all." And that was the truth. She knew it down to her soul.

Apparently he did too. Heaving a sigh, the great lord gave a resigned shrug. "Okie-dokie, but don't say I didn't warn you."

And he held out his hand.

Tsubaki felt a queer flush of pleasure. She was about to be wielded by the Lord of the Void! The highest honor any Weapon could aspire to! That alone made this experience worthwhile, whatever else might happen. It made her nervous, but there was no way to refuse now. She had her own pride, after all. With that she steeled herself and reached up to slip her fingers into that outlandish mitt. "What weapon would you prefer?"

"The Uncanny Sword," he responded instantly. "It's the strongest form you have right now, and it should help you hold up."

Oh, that does it. He was about to _see_ what she could and could not take! Without another word, Tsubaki slipped from human to weapon in less time than it took to draw breath.

An eerie black Japanese sword now rested comfortably in Shinigami's hand. Moonlight failed to reflect in the length of the blade, and its shadow along the ground squirmed in restless anticipation.

Within that sword, Tsubaki considered. I don't feel anything yet. Is he chickening out? That hardly seemed something that would…

"Ready, Tsubaki-chan?"

This is it.

"_I am, Shinigami-sama."_

"Ho-kay." And he sighed. "Been a while since I tried this, but… here we go."

He then did something unexpected. The arm that wasn't holding her emerged from the Death God's side. To Tsubaki's surprise, he gave a snap of his fingers, and that white glove simply slipped off to dangle from his wrist like a kid's mitten.

Emerging from the long black forearm there was revealed a flesh-and-blood hand.

It took her a few seconds of staring to realize this was not a human appendage. There was a resemblance, to be sure. But for starters it was noticeably larger than one might expect, and the skin was white. Beyond this, even, there appeared to be holes in his hand, a sort of long ovoid slit that ran in the spaces between where a mortal's finger tendons would be and allowed one to see right through from front to back. His thumb resembled a hook, smooth and without any indication of hinges. It was also far longer than normal, reaching out to the tips of his fingers, of which there were only three. All seemed to be the same length in addition to being quite thin. They shared the thumb's lack of visible joints, but each ended in a point that rounded on one edge. Like a kitchen knife's tip, she thought. Or maybe bird feathers. When he turned his hand, Tsubaki could see diamond-shaped nails of purest black glowing under the cold moonlight.

So there _is _someone under there. I always wondered.

"Here we go!"

And with that, Shinigami passed her over into his real grip.

The moment she touched him was one Tsubaki would never forget.

She had been wondering how he intended to hold her. Considering that she was still somewhat toy-sized in proportion to his actual fingers, it might be awkward. But when her handle slipped into that pale palm, all such thoughts vanished.

The skin that she touched was impossibly smooth. It was like a hand made of liquid white chocolate had taken hold of her. While she was still coming to grips with this feeling, his fingers folded in and clasped her hilt securely.

In spite of all her preparations, Tsubaki let out a moan.

I had no idea.

At first it felt like a heartbeat. A pulse, faint but growing stronger. Then it became a snare drum before morphing almost immediately into a booming timpani. Sound analogies failed her as she tried to imagine a giant's footsteps, because by then this feeling was so all-encompassing it had become too solid to be described as any noise. The presence wrapped around her, squeezing insistently but tenderly. Could this actually be a soul wavelength? I can't let that in, it'll tear me apart! Nobody could take all that!

It'll be all right, Tsubaki-chan.

Was that him speaking? Can't tell anymore.

Maybe I should try to resonate with this. Only a little bit. Get a feel for it at first, just like a regular soul, then gently slide and fold into one another until we can…

She had only been thinking about trying. But without even realizing it the mingling had already taken place. Their wavelengths had joined together.

No person's spirit had ever felt this way. Tsubaki's soul was like a deflated balloon being filled with air. Hope I don't pop. No, wait, it was more as if she were waking up, opening her eyes to take in the whole wide world around her. There were the people still in the hall, and in the Academy, not to mention those living in Death City's limits. In addition she now became aware of every other living thing operating around her. Whether it be scurrying rats, soaring eagles, or even bacilli splitting along the length of her steel.

The sigh of the wind, shifting of stone, the cool flow of water, light and shadow playing with one another; everything was making itself known in a way that was too much to grasp at first. I don't think I can do it on my own. Rather than trying, however, she instead settled more securely into that pulsing spirit which was now as much a part of her as anything else. After that it all resolved into focus. Nothing was beneath her notice, down to the tiniest grains of sand. Like a satellite image of this region of the planet complete with x-rays and the clarity of a microscope to boot.

Strangely enough, this experience didn't frighten her. Maybe it should have, but somewhere deep down she recognized that this was still a part of _him_, the one responsible for all this, and therefore safe for her. Awe was the closest thing the person once known as Tsubaki Nakatsukasa could find.

I never want this feeling to end. I'm finally alive.

Tsubaki-chan.

It was the source of these newfound revelations calling. But she didn't want to leave, couldn't part from this extravagant panoply playing out all around her. It was impossible to go back to the way she had been. I'm almost a part of his presence now. It won't be long until that happens for good. The world was demanding she take notice of it after having ignored everything that it had to offer for so many years, and would continue to do so for years and centuries and ages to come until…

"I think that'll do."

Her magnified sight focused down to a pinpoint, until she became loosely aware of the lone figure holding a sword. It came as no surprise to find that the black blade had grown in size until it fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Such a thing was as natural as the water seeping through the bedrock beneath this plain, sprouting into rivulets that…

"Oooo-kay, bring it back down. Easy does it, nice and slow."

She watched as Shinigami passed the Uncanny Sword (me) back into his gloved hand.

The next thing Tsubaki knew she was down on her knees in human form again, breathing heavily and perspiring. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding, and neither would the trembling that surged through her frame. She felt flushed, the desert night air vacillating between too hot and chilly against her skin.

Shinigami was bending over her solicitously, one mitten holding onto her arm for support. That could be the only thing keeping me upright, Tsubaki thought vaguely. After an experience like that, the indescribable rapture having almost swept her away into…

"Yo." He snapped his fingers before her eyes. "Stay right here, Tsubaki-chan. You just need to rest for a bit."

She obeyed. While waiting for her body to subside back to normal, the overwhelmed Weapon stared distractedly straight ahead. Her breath came in short pants, and her eyes must look glazed. All the same, at least now she could remember her own name. A minute ago that would have been impossible.

I can't believe what I just did.

It had been dangerous. So very dangerous. And he hadn't even gone all the way with her, she realized suddenly. Somehow Tsubaki knew that what she had experienced was not the full total of Shinigami's soul. More like only a tiny part which he had carefully regulated and pared off so that she could withstand even that much. This was the result. She hadn't been able to distinguish herself from anything else in the end. Had he not stepped in to pull her back, she would have willingly succumbed and gone over to that incredible world of sensations that existed in his merest touch.

"Are you doing alright?"

A shake of the head brought her back to the present. He sounds worried, she thought. Better reassure him before he starts to feel bad.

"Yes, sir," she replied back. "I just need to catch my breath."

She glanced up at him, and shivered at the sight. Tsubaki quickly dropped her eyes.

"Shinigami-sama… I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I see now that there is a long way to go before I could ever aspire to be your Weapon."

"The '100-Soul' rule isn't like all those human laws that don't make any sense. It might seem daunting now, but trust me, your quota will be filled before you know it. For you and Black*Star making a Death Scythe should be a breeze." His voice resumed its jocular timbre. "Still, I gotta hand it to you, Shadow Weapon Nakatsukasa. Not everybody could take an ordeal like that and look as good as you do right after."

The compliment left her once more unable to look at him directly. Sudden warmth settled through her limbs.

"All the same, I thank you, Milord."

"_Nema problema_," he affirmed. "So do you think you can stand?"

"Yes."

He offered her a hand, and the dazed young woman took it. Rising up Tsubaki couldn't help but miss the actual feel of his grip as compared to this gargantuan novelty glove. No wonder he wears them. Even patting someone on the head might put them in a coma otherwise.

When she was back on her feet, Tsubaki smoothed her dress demurely. "I think now would be a good time for me to go back in to the party."

"Try the crab-puffs," Shinigami insisted. "I always look forward to there being some left over afterwards, but it hardly ever happens. Very disappointing."

He sounded so forlorn at the prospect of missing out on tasty delicacies that she simply had to ask. "If you still don't feel like coming in, perhaps I could bring you out a plate to enjoy?"

"Hey, that sounds great! You really know the way to a man's heart, Tsubaki-chan!"

There was no fighting the blush that crept up her cheeks. She fidgeted and looked away. "I'm… pleased to be of help, sir. What would you like to drink?"

"Well, how about…"

"YAHOO! NOBODY'S HIGHER THAN ME!"

Behind them, there came a loud crash, and her heart sank at the prospect.

Rushing back to the patio doors, Tsubaki and Shinigami looked in to find a scene of utter chaos. People were running back and forth. Voices rose in anger and alarm. After a few seconds, the press cleared enough for them to finally see what had happened.

What had once been a buffet table was now in ruins. On top of this were the remains of a large and doubtless expensive crystal chandelier. And perched proudly atop that pile of food and shattered furniture was Black*Star.

"Did you all see me swinging around up there?" he demanded in a loud voice that carried over the tumult. "Only I could do that, because I'm the man who reaches for the heights. It was so high up I was like a star! A Black*Star!"

Lord Death sighed. "On second thought, maybe I'll just go home."

"_Gomen nasai!"_ Tsubaki cried tearfully, bowing low and often from the waist. "I'm so sorry this happened, Shinigami-sama! We'll clean it up, and pay for everything that was broken, please send the bill to my family! Just don't kill Black*Star, please, I'm begging you!"

"Now, now, Tsubaki-chan, there's really no need for…"

* * *

Tsubaki lay abed, snuggled against a great plump goose-down pillow. The pillowcase was white, as were the sheer satin draperies that hung down all around her bed. Their length was so great that they pooled on the floor and then rose up to cover her mattress. She luxuriated amidst the heavenly folds, slowly rubbing her bare legs over the fabric. It was so good there was no need to wonder as to why she wasn't wearing any clothes. The nude girl pressed her face deeper into these sensuous comforts, awash in a splendid sensation. Her milky-white skin made it seem like she was a part of the room. Only her ribbon of long dark hair stood out now.

After she lay there for a time, Tsubaki stirred and moaned.

She didn't have to open her eyes to know that the sheets were changing color. Darkness was oozing down the curtains of her boudoir to leave them gleaming black. This inky tide then crept soundlessly across the floor and slid up onto the bed with her.

As the midnight shade leached in to finally stain the sheets she lay upon, Tsubaki gave a sigh and opened her eyes.

She sat up and looked all around, more curious than fearful. Everything was black except for her. Nonetheless, the room remained as soothing as it had been before. Just in a different color. There was nothing to fear. Reaching down, she ran her hand over the glossy rich fabric whose surface swam almost like a liquid, skin glowing a pale pallor against it.

It was when this thought came to her that her legs began to sink down into the bed.

She was in it up to her knees before any thought of concern came. It's like quicksand. Don't struggle, that only makes you sink faster.

So Tsubaki sat back and kept very still. Only then did she realize that at the same time as her legs sank out of sight, something was rising up from below. Before she knew it this new thing had slowly pushed its way inside, between her legs, soft and gentle. It was the sheets, she thought, they must be coming up since my legs are going down. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. That makes sense.

The black intrusion wormed itself in deeper. There was no way to stop it. And she didn't really want to. This was nice. She clasped her hands before her breast and tilted her head up, closing her eyes as if in prayer. The long strands of her ponytail shook from side to side as she swayed in forbidden bliss.

When two long white hands emerged from the bed and gently grasped her hips, Tsubaki didn't have to wonder why. Those fingers sank into the soft flesh of her body to get a better grip. Taking hold, they began to rock her gently up and down. Their motion contributed to the build-up of pleasure. A gasp left her lips in response. Apparently her legs had stopped sinking, so that only her thighs remained above water. It didn't matter anymore. That firm protrusion was comfortably ensconced deep inside her now.

The hands took over from there, keeping up a steady and pleasing rhythm. The girl sank forward with a grateful whimper and rubbed herself against the surface of the black bed. The muscles stood out as her back arched, soft breasts mashing into the splendid weave. Her fingers clenched and bunched handfuls of flowing black satin. While one of the hands kept on its pleasing pace, the other slid up her rounded hip and glistening back until it came to rest against her head. She panted and moaned delightedly, nuzzling her cheek once more against that delicious presence.

It wasn't a bed she lay on now, Tsubaki realized. It was him. He was holding her close to his chest, fingers caressing through her hair with utmost tenderness. The realization of her partner's identity seemed to increase her passion exponentially. It wouldn't be long until she reached her peak. Before that happened, though…

Looking up, she saw the white mask as she had expected. It remained untouched by any trace of emotion. That won't do. I have to see what lies beneath, know the face of the person bringing me to rapture. Kiss him and thank him for what he's doing for me, so wonderfully.

Her hand came up then to touch the smooth faceplate. She bit her lip hesitantly, waiting to see if he would restrain her. But he only continued to stroke her firm young body without fail, and his thrusts did not diminish for an instant. That alone was enough to suffice. It was almost time, any second now, I'm going to…!

It's here! I have to do it! Without another moment of hesitation Tsubaki pulled away the mask and lunged forward. She kissed him passionately, remembering only at the last second to close her eyes as she did. That was the romantic way. Not a second too soon. As their lips touched, her climax arrived like it had been only waiting for that to happen. It was so absolutely perfect she had to cry out in happiness!

Her own scream woke her up.

She lay on her futon staring fuzzily at the ceiling. Her body felt warm and tingly. Off to the left, Black Star continued snoring away on his side of their small bedroom.

The girl took a moment there, which all people do upon awakening, to assure herself that it was only a dream. After this, she attempted to recall what the dream had been about.

Ah. Yes. I remember now.

With that, Tsubaki realized just how much trouble she was in, and she scrambled from the room in pursuit of a cold shower. That took priority. Otherwise that horrifying and _amazing_ dream might tempt her into doing something she'd later regret to a certain loudmouth kid innocently snoozing five feet away.

Something told her she had enough problems without doing that.

Please please _please…_

Don't let me have a crush on my boss.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Tsubaki sliced the hot dogs and began to carve them to resemble octopi. She considered adding little faces, finally deciding that such a thing would not be inappropriate.

I'm being careful.

Next came the omelets, which she flipped out of the pan and left to cool in preparation. A cream cheese-green onion-ginger spread waited to fill the insides before rolling and slicing.

I'm being very careful.

Onigiri dumplings were cooking in the bamboo steamer. Some cherry tomatoes on toothpicks, spring vegetable eggrolls, six different varieties of sushi, and black olives.

Nothing to be worried about.

A small container opened to reveal quail's eggs. Yosh, the jelly roll should be done baking by now. _Umeboshi_ mixed in a container with non-pickled fruit such as watermelon cubes, while cantaloupe and honeydew added a certain Western touch. Fried shrimp waited to tuck into several different dipping sauces. _Dim-sum _dumplings, some curry for the rice, and this bento box was looking pretty smart. The earnest chef wiped her brow and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Looking good so far.

Only then did she see it.

The black olives were arranged in two little mounds right next to one another, with a bowl of black soy sauce just below and between. White rolled-up sushi filled in the spaces all around them to form a large circle. Three separate lines of sushi dropped down from this orb.

Without a doubt staring up at her was the mask of a certain whimsical death god.

I made a little picture of him, she thought. Not only that, the whole thing was surrounded by a stylized heart made of red fruits and vegetables. Not good.

Just a tiny slip-up. Nothing to get concerned about, right? I've got myself well in hand. Everything's completely under control. I'll just fix it later. With that, Tsubaki went back to decorating the cephalopod hot dogs.

A tiny shinigami mask peeped up at her.

I carved his face in them. Without even realizing it.

One eye twitched, and she giggled nervously.

"YO! Whatcha doin'?"

EEP!

She whirled about, for a moment expecting to see _him _coming towards her, swathed in his robes of office, tall and magnificent. But it was only Black*Star slumping through the kitchen with his hands behind his head. Dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and jogging pants, he padded in on bare feet wearing a curious look.

"Nothing!" Tsubaki insisted quickly. "I'm just… doing some cooking!"

"Yum!" The boy jumped up on his tiptoes. "Can't wait to try it!"

Dressed like that, there was a great deal of sculpted muscle showing on his healthy frame, enough to get her mind wandering to certain situations she had read about in manga involving kitchen scenes, the various uses of food beyond eating, girls dressed only in aprons and boys sporting humongous…

STOP! DESIST! BAD BAD _BAD!_

"Hey, how come you're making a bento? Are we going anywhere to eat today?"

"No, no, nothing special's happening!"

"Huh." Black*Star fell to engaging in a bout of shadow-boxing then, already lost in his own little world once more. His partner gave a grateful sigh and moved to dispose of the evidence.

"Don't forget the condoms."

"WHAT?"

"Y'know, condoms," the martial artist drawled lazily while throwing punches at the wall. "Stuff that goes with food, like soy sauce and wasabi."

It took her a few seconds to work this one out.

"Condiments!" Tsubaki gave a gasp of relief. "You mean _condiments."_

He thought about it. "Yeah, that word's bigger. Let's go with that!" And he sauntered out of the room.

I really need to invest in a pocket dictionary for him. Where does he pick up these words, anyway? English isn't my first language either, but come _on! _He almost gave me a heart attack!

Still, this does rather neatly illustrate my problem. I need help, Tsubaki decided.

It had been a week since the First-Kill celebration. Those seven days had been pure torture for her. At night she suffered vivid dreams detailing erotic concourse between herself and Lord Death. By day she had to endure the memories which would not fade. A more frightening situation had never occurred to her. Most disturbing of all was how she sometimes found herself drifting off into the daydreams, perhaps even enjoying them! And this right here, making a bento box. Who exactly had she been making it for? The image of Tsubaki handing her carefully prepared meal over to Shinigami and blushing like a lovesick schoolgirl came to mind. Thoughts like this were going to ruin her career and reputation.

As a result Tsubaki was quite jumpy and skittish. Even some of her classmates had taken note, but she only explained it away by claiming concern for Black*Star's well-being training with her Uncanny Sword mode. There was no way she would admit to being plagued by recurring fantasies about their illustrious founder and venerated deity. That would require just a little more trust and maturity than one could expect from people their age.

Is there _anyone _who might be able to give me some advice about how to deal with this?

What am I going to do?

* * *

"You are all going to write a report about your findings. Pick out your specimens and decide how to best proceed by tomorrow."

The whole class groaned. Professor Franken Stein leaned one hand on his desk and stood in that slack posture for a few moments without moving. However, sharp-eyed individuals might have taken note of how his own gaze swept piercingly back and forth between the ranks of students attending his lecture. Behind that shaggy white-blond hair and disinterested frown lurked a homicidal genius who delighted in surgically exploring his victims, which could include friends, enemies, or casual strangers passing on the street.

And he was their sensei.

"If any of you have questions, please see me after class and I will hear your concerns."

KILL-KONG-KANG-KONG!

"Dismissed," Stein added, and turned back to the papers he would soon be grading.

As the rest of the class stood up, Tsubaki remained in her seat. Black*Star was already heading for the door, but paused when he noticed his Weapon wasn't following. "Tsubaki, you coming?"

"Ah," she fidgeted and tried to smile. "I'll catch up to you, there's something I need to ask the professor about."

" 'Kay." With that he ran to catch up with Soul Evans and Maka Albarn. She watched as he flung an arm around their shoulders and proceeded to talk excitedly about whatever interested him at this time. Evans bore it with friendly aplomb while Maka stiffened and glared at Black*Star crossly before snapping out a remonstrance. They were probably the closest friends he had outside of Tsubaki. Everyone looked so relaxed and carefree as they exited the lecture hall.

Finally when no one else remained she stood up and made her way down to confront the teacher.

"Professor Stein?"

"Yes." He rolled his head around and gave her a distracted look. The enormous screw driven through the side of his skull appeared to be weighing his neck down in that position. All the same, there was a queer lucidity to his gaze that never went away. "Ah, Tsubaki-chan. What can I do for you?"

Okay, take it easy. Don't go into details. Just tell him you have a problem, and maybe it'll become easier from there.

His cold lifeless eyes stared unblinkingly back.

"I have a-"

_TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER-IMAGINATIVE PREVIEW!_

"_Professor, I have a personal problem I'd like to discuss with you."_

"_Of course, my dear." He rubbed his hands together, a small crooked smile twisting his lips. "Just hop up on the table and I'll help you in any way I can."_

"_Ummm, okay." She proceeded to do so. "As I was saying, I have a problem-"_

"_Yes, yes," he murmured while rummaging around in the pockets of his stitched-together lab coat. "Tell me all about it while you slip out of your clothes and lie down."_

"_Excuse me? Why do I need to do that?"_

"_Oh, I'm going to dissect you. Don't worry, after we're done, there won't be a single thing about you that I won't be able to provide an answer for." He pulled a wickedly-sharp scalpel from his pocket and held it up before his eyes. "Now, shall we get started?"_

_END OF PREVIEW_

"…question about bullfrogs!"

He nodded. "I've dissected my share. What about them?"

_BULLFROGS? _Where did that come from? My God, he's slicing me open already in his mind, I know it! Quick, think of something useless Maka talked to you about before!

"Is it true that they can… hibernate in wintertime by freezing and thaw out in the spring?"

"Yes, that's correct. Since they're cold-blooded, their bodies can withstand freezing by slipping into a state of torpor that, combined with high concentrations of glucose that acts as a natural antifreeze…"

"Thank you so much, sir, I have to be going now!"

And she bowed deeply before running from the room.

Stein watched her go. That was close. For some reason a strong urge to dissect her had been building up in him. Well, maybe another time. With that he lit the cigarette he had been craving since class began and turned his attention on today's homework.

* * *

Okay, clearly talking to teacher was out. Something of this nature would have been hard enough to discuss with a normal person, and Doctor Stein didn't qualify for that category in the slightest. Maybe that had been the wrong avenue to start with. Actually, Tsubaki used to have naughty fantasies about their previous teacher, Knife-Meister Sid. Before he became a blue-skinned zombie, of course. There had just been something about his street-tough looks and gang-banger style of clothing that enticed her imagination whether she liked it or not. Many was the time she had pictured them alone together after class, with Sid picking her up in his muscular arms and sitting her down on his desk before they proceeded to passionately make out. That had probably been what flavored her brief flash of creative thinking there with the Professor.

Actually, her overactive imagination might have saved her life. What had she been thinking, talking to _Stein _of all people about matters of the heart? The man had probably removed his own with a scalpel years ago and kept it in a jar for examination! Seriously, Tsubaki, use your head more!

Okay. One candidate down (and out). Who else could possibly be of help to me here?

* * *

"Say 'Ahh'."

"AHHHHHH!"

Black*Star screamed at deafening levels in an apparent attempt to blow out all the windows. Standing in the corner, Tsubaki winced. However, the school nurse didn't seem bothered at all, and placed the depressor on his tongue before proceeding to examine his throat and mouth. Like a horse doctor.

With a small noise that could have indicated satisfaction or disapproval, Medusa removed the stick and proceeded to write down on her pad.

"You don't have tonsillitis," the cool-eyed chirurgeon declared. "Most likely your sore throat is the result of all the nigh-continuous screaming at the top of your lungs."

"It only sounds that way to people with small ears." Black*Star crossed his arms with a smirk.

Medusa continued as though she hadn't heard. "I'm going to give you an herbal remedy of slippery elm and licorice. You'll drink it in a tea twice a day, and that combined with some quiet time should have you back to normal in short order. I don't want to have you in here for anything more until then, understand, young man?"

Shibusen's self-proclaimed champion was twisting on his stool restlessly. "Can I go now? Hiro and I are supposed to spar together today."

Medusa clicked her pen shut with a small smile. "Yes, you're free to leave. I'll give your remedy to Tsubaki."

"Cool! Thanks, Medusa-sensei! Here you go!" With that he thrust a sheet of paper in her face.

The beautiful blonde took his offering and examined it with a raised eyebrow. "And this is?"

"Your payment! Hold onto that, because it'll be worth a lot of money one day!"

At that he leapt from the chair and raced from her office, leaving only a loud 'Ya-hoo!' in his wake. He already forgot what Medusa-sensei said, Tsubaki thought glumly. She didn't have to look to know that the school nurse was now the proud owner of yet another Black*Star signature, worth slightly less than the paper it was scrawled on.

"Thank you again, sensei," she said.

Medusa glanced over at her and smiled. "You're doing very well together, Tsubaki-chan. If not for you, I think a sore throat would be the least of that boy's concerns."

"Yes, ma'am."

The nurse then went to her medicine cabinet and began preparing their prescription. Watching her measure and calculate with careful ease, Tsubaki felt admiration for this woman. She handled everything the students could throw at her, from broken bones to malaria. Even something as minor as a scraped knee she treated effectively and efficiently. Whether it be inoculations before being sent to disease-prone areas or dispensing advice on how to handle a bout of Montezuma's Revenge, Shibusen's medic never faltered when it came to taking care of the children under her protection. She was a very wise and gracious lady.

Come to think of it, I really couldn't ask for a better candidate to hear about my problem. Not only is she a woman, who would understand what I'm going through, but she's a medical expert, so maybe there would even be a bit of doctor-patient privilege about not divulging the matter to anybody else.

"There we go." Medusa zipped up the plastic bag and wrote the directions on the side along with her initials. She turned around and Tsubaki stepped forward to take it off her hands. "So you know, the licorice might actually go towards lowering his testosterone level, but don't hold me to that. It's not accepted medical lore as of yet. Just an old wives' tale, you might say. Still, poor Hiro might thank you for it later." And she gave a light laugh.

Tsubaki giggled in response and expressed her gratitude once again before taking the prescription. Medusa bid her goodbye and went back to her desk to write up a report.

This is it. Just work up the courage and tell her. She's a mature professional, who knows, she might have had a similar experience in her own past.

"Ah, Medusa-sensei?"

"Yes, dear?" she responded without looking back.

"Have you ever…"

_TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER-IMAGINATIVE PREVIEW!_

"_Have you ever had a sex dream about one of your colleagues?"_

_Medusa turned in her seat and leveled a cold stare at the anxious girl._

"_Tsubaki-chan, are you sexually active?"_

"_WHAT? No, really, I'm not, I was just…!"_

"_I knew it," Medusa sighed heavily. "Young girls these days just have no respect for their bodies whatsoever. Still, in this case it comes as no surprise." With that she stood up and began collecting pamphlets and brochures from around the office. _

"_Umm, what do you mean, 'in this case'?"_

"_I'm going to give you some material you'll have to read regarding teen pregnancy and contraception. Afterwards, you and I are going to watch a video that will demonstrate how to engage in safe sexual practices, as well as showing examples of intercourse that are not legal in this part of the globe but you should still know about. Following that I'm going to administer a full gynecological check-up on you, complete with pap smears and intense body cavity examinations."_

"_I really don't think that's necessary."_

"_Just so you know, I'm told I have cold hands, so the shock to your erogenous zones might stimulate you into full arousal, but that's nothing to be ashamed of. However, I will have to notify your parents about this matter. So, then, let's begin."_

_END OF PREVIEW_

"… heard a story that witches have no toes?"

Medusa's head came up. "Excuse me?"

Tsubaki couldn't seem to stop. Seriously, where did her brain come up with these ludicrous safety measures? "Well, there was a book Maka read that said something along those lines, and since I've only met one witch and never bothered to check her feet, I wanted to ask if you might have heard something about that."

The nurse swiveled around with a puzzled look on her face. "Witches are born with no tell-tale physical deformities of any kind that I am aware of. Other than exceedingly long lifespans, their natural state of being is no different than an average human."

"I see, thank you very much, Medusa-sensei, I must be going now!"

And Tsubaki beat a hasty retreat before either of them could utter another word.

Medusa remained seated, slowly tapping her pen against the surface of the table.

"Kids," she finally decided. With a dismissive shrug, Shibusen's kindly healer then went back to her work. However, that odd topic of conversation left her feeling restless, and not two minutes later she was busily painting her toenails with the care and precision of a Flemish artist.

* * *

This is terrible, I'm going crazy here. I can't even talk to a professional! Now Medusa-sensei probably thinks I'm as dumb as Black*Star! What did I ever do to deserve this?

Okay, now that I've had some time to think, maybe she might not have been the ideal confidante. Medusa does have a reputation for being a bit stand-offish when it comes to personal matters. I don't really know the first thing about her, and I tried to force this mess onto her shoulders without asking? That's unforgiveable. Even if it is her sworn duty to take care of us, it's not like every little (major) thing has to be dumped in her lap. The woman has enough problems as it is without being asked to become a psychiatrist! Really, Tsubaki, try to show some character.

But that being said, who can I possibly turn to now? Maybe what I need is someone my own age. Perhaps even someone who is involved with Shinigami-sama on a day-to-day basis and wouldn't make any snap judgments about my innocent little indiscretion. A person who's calm, reasonable, and most of all, discreet.

* * *

"So I really don't know what to do about it," Tsubaki sighed. "I mean, if I tell him how I feel, it could raise all kinds of issues for him, and I don't want that. I respect Shinigami-sama as much as anyone in the world. Do you know what I mean?"

The vicious serial killer Sam O-Sun looked up as well as he could with her heel pressed into his neck. "Lady, I don't get why you're telling me all this, but could we-WOOF-hurry it up? My Master expects me to play fetch with him in about fifteen-BARK-minutes."

"Don't worry." And she glanced off to one side. "It looks like they're almost through."

Bound in chains that sprouted from her ponytail, the blood-encrusted man in a dog-mask tried to see where she was indicating but failed. Just a few yards away Black*Star stood arguing with the implacably debonair junior death god, Death the Kid. The meisters' collaboration on this assignment had been quite impressive right until the end, when it came time to divide up the souls.

There had been some disagreement about who actually brought down the demonic duo of psychopath and possessed dog. Sam's evil canine counterpart was now a large pile of steaming red meat and bone as a result of the furious barrage Kidd and his Demon Gun accomplices shot into it. At this very moment the Thompson Sisters were engaged in playfully tossing the soul they had acquired back and forth between them, waiting for the dispute to be resolved. However, the disposition of the human being was somewhat contested. It had been a team effort, but Tsubaki was willing to admit that the young shinigami and his allies did do more of the grunt work. Kidd had severed the psychic link between the murderous mutt and its human pet, depriving Sam of his superhuman strength and agility that had been giving them so much trouble. But Black*Star wasn't about to go down without a fight.

Kidd wouldn't accept an odd number of souls, so if he gave up, then both would go to Tsubaki. Still, as they had been arguing for almost ten minutes, Black*Star's regular attention span was at its absolute limit. Soon Kidd would probably win by default. In fact, any second now…

"I'm not letting you have that guy's soul, it's ours! DAMN, it's hot today!" her meister declared, shading his eyes and glowering up at the sky.

She didn't fail to notice how the shinigami's golden eyes gleamed as if with sudden inspiration. "Are you saying that the sun is burning brighter than you, Black*Star?" he inquired in a polite tone.

Tsubaki groaned inwardly. Well, that's it for us.

"WHAT? LIKE HELL! Just you watch, shinigami, I'm gonna stare down that stupid sun and overload it with my incredible brilliance!"

The Shadow Meister then spun away and turned his face straight up, hands on his hips and staring fixedly right at the distant celestial orb. Oh, dear. He's going to burn out his retina again if he isn't careful. With a distinctly glum feeling at going soul-less on yet another mission, Tsubaki waved to get Death the Kid's attention. When he looked her way, she held up a hand in defeat.

Kidd nodded to accept, a grim frown working over his lips. He still did not seem pleased.

"That's that," Tsubaki sighed.

"What do you-WOOF-"

Her hand had become a black sword and chopped his head off by that point. Sam's body then flared with evil power that faded away immediately afterwards, leaving nothing behind but his twisted soul. This she picked up and carried over to the victorious shinigami.

"I'm sorry both of us couldn't come away with something from this, Tsubaki-chan," Kidd declared, his icy ochre gaze still managing to express his sincerity.

"These joint assignments tend to leave one party holding the bag, Kidd-san. But you definitely earned this in my opinion." And she handed over the soul.

"Thank you." This time he actually did smile at her, that glum little mouth lifting into a perfectly symmetrical bow before he turned back to his duties.

Making her way over to deter Black*Star from his fruitless staring match, the loser of this particular dispute cast a look over at Kidd as he went to offer the second prize to his partners. There had always been something very striking about that boy, from the day she first saw him engaged in battle with Soul and Black*Star. He moved without hesitation when fighting, possessed of a surety and confidence in his own abilities that transcended mere mortal limitations. This favorable impression was only enhanced upon getting to know him. In spite of his flagrant psychological hang-ups, Kidd struck her as one of the noblest, most admirable people she had ever met. He was gracious as well as intelligent, possessed of more compassion than one might expect from his breed. A loyal companion, a true friend…

Wait, that sounded like she was describing a dog. Maybe better to say a superb fighter who could be depended upon to come to your aid and risk his own life for yours. Not to mention he looked amazing in that black suit. With hair to match and skin of a fabulously pale ivory cast. Wonder if he inherited his father's looks or not? Perhaps I should ask…

No, stop it! Focus on something other than how cute he would look in a bathing suit.

My head is such a mess these days.

By this point she had reached her technician's side. "Black*Star?"

"Hang on, Tsubaki, I think he's about to give!"

If only there was an eclipse scheduled for today. "Maybe you should…"

"Hold it… hooooold it and… DONE!"

The light from above lessened noticeably.

What, did he actually intimidate the sun not to shine? Surprised, Tsubaki glanced up just in time to see a flash of light disappearing behind the edge of a large puffy cloud.

"HALO OF LIGHT!" the spiky-haired youth declared triumphantly. He then looked over at his partner. "Did you see me win?"

"We all did." There was no doubt about it. "You beat the sun."

"You know it!" Black*Star sniffed and rubbed his nose in satisfaction before looking about. "Hey, where's our soul?"

One explanation later, the two technicians were arguing again.

"Unbelievable," Liz Thompson huffed as she strode over to Tsubaki wearing a disgusted look. Her cowboy hat was off and she was using it to fan both herself and her frenetic little sister Patti. Long sandy-blond hair whipped back and forth in an irritated shake. "Can't those two just have a normal conversation without it turning into a pissing match?"

Tsubaki gave a passive shrug. "I doubt it. It is pretty hot today, and that tends to get people riled up."

"We could shoot the top off a fire hydrant," Liz mused. "Cool them down that way."

"Ka-PLOOSHIE!" Patti declared while throwing up her arms in a fair impression of a geyser exploding. She then began busily playing with a bloody dog collar, attempting to see if it would fit around her neck. Her sister immediately took to restraining her impulsive sibling as best she could. Soon there were two arguments raging under the noonday sun.

Watching the sisters, Tsubaki found herself envying their steadfast relationship. The devotion both Thompsons held for one another sometimes made it seem like there was nobody else in the world who could ever matter to them. Of course, the close bond they shared with Kidd proved that to be a lie. A sturdier alliance was hard to come by, and among a trio of weapon-meisters, no less. Liz and Patti acted more like family to the young death god than anything else. Putting up with one another's faults, respecting their habits, not to mention working to combat any weaknesses they might have. It was a splendid example of cooperation.

The taller Thompson had almost managed to soothe her sister's mercurial mood. Soon that collar would be in a garbage can where it belonged. Liz had always been the more sensible of the two. She was very proud and self-assured. Her past as a hooligan living on the streets of Brooklyn did not prevent her from fitting in nicely at the Death Weapon Meister Academy, nor did she ever allow herself to feel ashamed of that former life. She possessed charm and beauty, so the boys naturally gravitated to her. On one or two occasions, she and Tsubaki had actually chatted about the guys at Shibusen, comparing their virtues, giggling at their flaws. It was a very nice experience for the normally soft-spoken Shadow Weapon.

Hmmm, come to think of…

_TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER-IMAGINATIVE PREVIEW!_

"_Liz-chan, can I talk to you about something?"_

"_Sure, go ahead."_

"_I need your advice. For the past week I've been having these dreams."_

"_What kind of dreams?"_

"_Well, they're rather…"_

"_Ohmigod!" Liz leaned in eagerly. "Tsubaki, did you have a sex dream?"_

"_I… I'm not…"_

"_You DID! That is so…!" She then turned and beckoned to her sister. "Patti, get OVER here! Tsubaki had a wet dream about somebody!"_

"_About who, about who?" the cherubic little nutjob declared, running up to dangle off Tsubaki's arm._

"_Look, maybe we should just forget…"_

"_Hang on, I'm getting a call." Liz whipped out her phone. "Hello? Yeah, it's me. Hey, get this, you know Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, Black*Star's partner? Well, turns out she's been having kinky dreams about a certain mystery somebody. Yes, isn't it wild? Huh? What? I dunno, wait, I'll ask her." She then cradled the cell against her shoulder and turned back to Tsubaki. "Boy or girl?"_

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Was it about a boy or a girl? Either way it's pretty hot."_

"_Was it about me?" Patti wondered, staring up with her big round eyes._

"_Please, I can't…"_

"_Hey, Tsubaki, you don't have to be shy about it with us."_

"_I don't?"_

_Liz shook her head. "Hell, no. We're totally cool with stuff like that."_

"_Well, it's nice to hear that, but I wasn't…"_

"_Yeah, it's true," her sister nodded eagerly. "Me and Big Sis rock Kidd's socks off every night, sometimes during the day too."_

"_Uhhhh…"_

"_Liz says he's the best lay she's ever had, and Santa Claus couldn't bring us a better package than the one Kidd's got in his pants, even on Christmas."_

"_So, ninja-chick," Liz purred seductively and wrapped an arm around the uncomfortable girl's shoulders. "You wanna join us?"_

"_You know what? Why not." Tsubaki decided. "After all, the one I really want is his dad, and this way I could be introduced to him more often in person. Let's get this party sta…!"_

_PREVIEW ABORTED_

…it.

Her hair whipped around violently as Tsubaki strove to physically short-circuit her brain before that scene could go any further.

Okay, asking the Thompson Sisters for advice is not in the cards.

"HEY! Blondies!" Black*Star suddenly came striding up to them. "Gimme back those souls, they don't belong to you!"

"Excuse me, you little shrimp? " Liz turned a frighteningly chilly look on him at that. Even Tsubaki was numbed. "What the hell did you just say to us?"

"You wanna fight us over it?" Patti giggled with a lunatic's grin greater than that of the monster they had just destroyed.

A snort came from Tsubaki's meister. "Like a couple'a little girls could do anything to the great Black*Star. Just hand 'em over!"

"Oh, you mean like…" And suddenly the elder Thompson was dangling a soul between her fingers. "This?" As Black*Star reached for it, a flick of her wrist sent the little round glob flying through the air, to be caught by Patti.

"Come'n get it," the girl cooed, and planted a kiss on the shuddering soul.

"You're asking for it, bitch!" The furious ninja sped after her, but Patti had already lobbed their prize back to her sister.

It wasn't hard to guess what happened next. The Thompsons passed the soul, and Black*Star chased after them. With no deviation from the script. Tsubaki watched her partner run laps between the pair with a weary resignation. At least he isn't hurting himself.

"At least they aren't hurting him," Death the Kid said as he walked up beside her.

"Give him a minute," Tsubaki predicted. "I'm sure he'll say something to really get them mad."

"You don't have to worry." And he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'll step in if things start to get dangerous. Besides, the girls have good hearts. They're not the sort to mess a person up just for being stupid."

"Thank you."

The touch of his fingers immediately reminded her of his father. She shivered slightly from the memory, but if Kidd noticed, he gave no sign. This comforting gesture didn't last long, though, as the teenage god quickly dropped his hand back to his side. Not from any sense of impropriety, she knew, but because he disliked being outside of a symmetrical pose for very long. To keep himself balanced, he would have had to raise his other arm, and that would have just looked strange. It was odd how clearly she had come to recognize his behavioral tics. And nice to realize it, too. She probably felt the same sort of affectionate acceptance of his obsessive-compulsive behavior as the Thompsons did, or even Shinigami. I guess this means I'm his friend.

And friends could talk to one another, right? That was the idea she had before. Tsubaki desperately needed someone to listen to her problem. Because this situation with his dad was getting out of hand, and the worst thing was, no one else knew it but her. Her last few visits to Shinigami's chamber to discuss their next assignment and total progress (or lack thereof), Tsubaki had spent the whole time staring at the floor. If anyone spoke to her, she responded by shaking her head or with one-word answers. Nobody remarked on this behavior, either because it wasn't much different from how she usually behaved, or because they were too busy watching Black*Star showboat enough for both of them. He embarrassed her like he expected to get an award for it. _'And for most number of times Tsubaki wished she had never been born, the award goes to… Black*Star!'_

But back to business. Death the Kid was someone she counted as a good friend. He was sensible (for the most part) and mature for his age (though who could say how old he really was). And the best part was, he had a very good idea about how most people responded to his father. He was no doubt used to it by this point in his life. Surely this couldn't be the first time anyone expressed romantic interest in Shinigami before his son. After all, he had a mother, right? He probably saw them kissing or some such before. This is the guy to go to with my dilemma.

Taking a deep breath, Tsubaki looked at her compatriot and said, "Kidd-san?"

He turned to face her directly, those three white half-stripes in his hair waving slightly. "Yes?"

"I wanted to ask if…"

'_TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER-IMAGINATIVE PREVIEW!'_

"_I wanted to ask if you mind that I had an erotic dream about your sexy sexy dad."_

_Silence._

"_Kidd-sa…?"_

"_Liz. Patti. Transform into guns."_

"_Right!" _

"_OKAAAAAY!"_

_Twin demon pistols settled comfortably in his palms._

"_Er, wait, can't we talk about this…?"_

"_Charging Death Cannon," the junior shinigami intoned in a low rumbling voice._

"_Noise at 0.98%!"_

"_3…2…1…"_

_All together. "FIRING!"_

'_END OF PREVIEW'_

"… you ever considered wearing a hat?"

He frowned at her slightly. "Why?"

Why? WHY? Because I'm an idiot, that's why! We're supposed to be learning how to respond swiftly and intelligently to life-or-death situations, and the best I can come up with is MEN'S HEADWEAR?

Oh, hell, just say whatever comes to mind.

"To cover those three stripes on your head."

And only when the words left her lips did she realize her mistake. Oh no. Please tell me I did _not _just say that!

They stared at one another for what felt like a very long time.

Then Kidd's face slowly but surely collapsed into misery.

"DAMMIT!" he sobbed, crumpling to his knees. "I'm a piece of GARBAGE, is what I am! I don't deserve to live with other people, they shouldn't be forced to look at someone as vile as me! I ought to never have been born! I'M DIRT, IS WHAT I AM!"

It was heartbreaking watching this performance, even more so because this time she knew it was all her fault. Anxiously Tsubaki hovered over his prostrate form. "Er, Kidd-san, please… don't say such things…"

"MY LIFE IS A LIIIIIIE!"

"I'm sure that's not true, just listen to… please stop trying to bury yourself, okay?"

"HEY!" Liz Thompson came running up to them. She looked at Kidd mewling in the dirt, then rounded on her fellow Weapon and demanded, "What the hell, Tsubaki? There was no cause for that! We were just playing with your idiot boyfriend, you didn't have to go this far!"

"I didn't mean to!" she responded tearfully. "We were just talking, and I mentioned…!"

"Dammit, he's trying to bury himself again." Liz looked back over her shoulder. "Yo, Sis! Get over here, we gotta cheer Kidd up!"

Patti glanced over with her teeth sunk into the back of Black*Star's neck. "Fokay!"

"I'M GONNA POUND YOU FLAT ONCE I GET A GOOD GRIP ON YOU! OW! DAMMIT, YOU FREAK, QUIT CHEWIN' ON ME, YOU'RE SO DEAD!"

After this both parties' voices of reason attempted to calm the less rational members of their clique. Even when things had quieted down, Tsubaki remained miserable with the knowledge that this mess was entirely her fault.

* * *

It's official. I am a total disgrace. I can't sort out my feelings on my own, and every time I try to ask for help, I wind up making a fool of myself. As a result, I'm considering doing something absolutely unthinkable. I am actually thinking about talking to Death Scythe. THE Death Scythe. Spirit Albarn, Maka's perverted dad! He's supposed to know something about dealing with women. Plus he hangs around Shinigami-sama all day, so he must know something about him.

But why do I need to find a person who knows Death, anyway? He isn't even human when you get right down to it, what makes me think _anybody _understands the first thing about him? Why am I even doing this? Clearly it's only making things worse. Maybe the proper thing to do would be to just chuck it all in, tender my resignation and go back home to Japan. It would be best for all concerned, right? The world would be better, right?

No. It's not right. _I'm _not right. That's the whole problem. I've got a screw loose in my head bigger than Professor Stein's. But I can't let that destroy me. I am a member of the Nakatsukasa Weapon clan, who have honorably existed in this world for over eleven centuries. I've faced enemies that would have humbled the bravest men, and triumphed over them. My way is _not _the way of the coward who runs in fear. The technicians and weapons of Shibusen are supposed to stand fast for the sake of those who have no choice but to run away. Even if we are afraid, we still remain strong.

I've never been scared of dying. Just failing. Black*Star and I have that much in common. We both hate to lose. And when you are charged with defending the weak and helpless from their monstrous neighbors, failure means more than just you dying. It also means your meister and innocent people go too. I'm strong enough to handle anything the world can throw at me.

But this is something I've done to myself.

I want to become a Death Scythe. I know how to do it. It's definitely possible. There's only one thing standing in my way.

Well, I guess I'm going to talk to Maka's papa.

It'll be humiliating, and possibly even emotionally scarring. Still, there's no other way. I can't just walk up to him in school, though, I don't even know where he is most of the time. Besides, today's Saturday. I'll ask Maka. I can stop by her and Soul's place. They'll probably be sitting down to lunch about now. If I hurry I can catch them before…

Wait. Wait one minute.

Maka and Soul's…

That's right. I completely forgot about that. And why not? What have I got to lose?

I think I know the perfect person to help me with this.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

_TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER-IMAGINATIVE PREVIEW!_

_*KNOCK-KNOCK*_

_Throwing open the front door, Maka Albarn was surprised by the sight that greeted her._

"_Tsubaki-chan! What are you doing here?"_

"_Nice to see you too, Maka-chan. Can I come in for a minute?"_

"_Sure." She stepped aside for the other girl to enter. Closing the door, she proceeded to lock it securely. "So what brings you by?"_

_As Maka slid the deadbolt home, a knife slid into her ribs and punctured her heart. _

_The scythe-meister slumped to the ground with a shocked expression on her face, and the last thing she ever heard was a voice saying, "I'm sorry, but I can't have any witnesses."_

_Soul Evans came slouching around a corner of their shared apartment, but before he could so much as blink a throwing star took him square in the temple. His feet slid out from under him, and he collapsed dead with a grunt. _

_Tsubaki went to collect her weapon from the sprawled corpse. She cleaned it off, making sure no trace of blood remained. Then the assassin slowly rose up to prowl further into the apartment._

"_Heeere, kitty-kitty-kitty."_

_END OF PREVIEW_

No. I'm too sleep-deprived and wound too tight to take any chances of how I deal with people. This is going to have to be a completely clandestine maneuver.

* * *

Maka hummed to herself as she washed the dishes in the sink. Lunch had been a spicy affair of tacos and improvised non-alcoholic margaritas. Soul might not have as much interest in following the recipes as her, but the food he cooked always seemed tasty and filling. Of course, for dinner today she expected something that required a little more effort. He had suggested eating out a while back, and if that was the case, she wanted to make sure he took her somewhere that actually provided stemware to drink out of. With no lids.

The plates clinked faintly as she slid them into the drying stand. Curled up on the counter, Blair's tail twitched sleepily at the disturbance. Their freeloading witch-cat hadn't been too interested in the meal Soul fixed, calling it 'kiddy-stuff' and preferring to doze off in a patch of sunlight streaming from the window. Maybe if there was some tuna she would have roused herself. Still, the less 'aroused' from Blair, the better.

Watching her slumbering there in lazy contentment, Maka was reminded of the time Soul turned the sink spray on her in what he called harmless fun. Being blown out into the street by an irate wet kitty had made sure such antics would never be repeated.

What a nice Saturday afternoon, the dedicated student thought, staring out the window as she dried a particularly large platter. I wonder if there's anything to do so this day doesn't go to waste.

A knock on the front door got Maka's attention. "Coming!"

She flipped off the water and removed her apron before heading out of the kitchen to answer it. Throwing open the door, Maka Albarn was surprised by the sight that greeted her.

Nothing. Nobody. Not a soul.

Peering around, she looked up and down the hallway, with no success. Had she just imagined it? Not one to be taken unawares, her spirit-radar scanned the corridor, but no telltale sign of anyone lurking about came back. Just the other families in their homes. Wait, did I just refer to us as a family?

While Maka was scouting the building, back in the kitchen Blair remained nestled in a fuzzy ball in her nap spot. Her dreams involved bushels of fish and limitless containers of cream.

Two hands slowly rose over the edge of the counter and hovered covetously above the sleeping cat.

Beneath her crooked witch's hat, Blair's eyes blinked open as she felt herself being picked up.

"Nya?"

There was a puff of smoke, followed immediately by silence.

A minute later Maka came back no more certain of what just happened than before. Returning to her chores, she took notice of how Blair had wandered off at some point. The window was open, which probably indicated their salacious squatter was out roaming around again. Probably trying to score a free meal at the fish market.

Well, she'll come back eventually. To be on the safe side, the thoughtful teen took some salmon from the refrigerator and wrapped it in a little dish alongside a bowl of dipping sauce. This she left on the kitchen table with a note for Blair to enjoy herself if she wasn't back by the time they left for dinner.

* * *

Blair opened her tiny mouth wide, fangs glistening whitely. Dutifully her erstwhile captor reached out and placed her fingers inside that needle-sharp cave.

The cat's pink tongue tickled Tsubaki's skin, and she let go of the sushi.

"Nyummy!" Blair chirped around her treat, and proceeded to munch it in feline bliss.

Tsubaki stroked the fur of the small black creature purring in her lap. Sitting on a bench in the park, the two of them resumed their conversation.

"If anyone had told me they thought about him that way before, I would have looked at them strange. I mean, Shinigami-sama is… sort of like a very old and famous work of art, I guess. Everybody knows of him, but they can't really tell you what he means in their world. And before this happened, I was willing to just live my life without ever having tried to understand what he actually… represents… in my heart."

"Sounds complicated." Blair yawned invitingly, clearly ready for the next treat. The girl doing the confessing complied immediately, picking out another roll of raw fish from the box and popping it into her mouth. She then continued relating the story.

"It is complicated. Or maybe I'm just making it that way. I never even managed to tell anybody else that I needed their help, my fears always cut me off. Which is what brought me to this point." Tsubaki hesitated there. "I really am sorry for the kidnapping."

"Catnyapping," her confidant corrected casually. "And of a nyapping cat. That's a much worse crime, nyah?"

She smiled weakly at the pun. "I guess."

Blair sat up then and began to lick her paw busily. "It's okay, I don't mind. Is your hand doing any better?"

"Fine now, thanks for asking." Actually the spot where Blair had bitten her still smarted, but she knew it could have been a whole lot worse. Apparently the magical feline had recognized the taste and scent of her kidnapper, doubtless from letting Tsubaki pamper her during their first meeting at Soul's place. Otherwise there could have been a lot more tumult involved in the kid… _cat_napping.

"Good," Blair stated and looked up at her with those luminous slitted eyes. "Now, why did you bring me here again?"

Tsubaki felt her heart plummet. Had she not listened to a _word _I said?

"I…" Quickly she glanced around to make sure nobody was close enough to eavesdrop. Then Tsubaki bent down and whispered, "I'm afraid I have a crush on Shinigami-sama."

The tiny witch hat cocked to one side. "Why are you afraid?"

"No, that's just a figure of speech. What I meant was…"

"You want to get frisky with him. So what's stopping you?"

Tsubaki's eyes grew wide. Her cheeks flushed the shade of roses.

"I guess you just want some pointers on how to catch a male's interest. That's why you sought out Blair, nyah?"

No. No, definitely not. Actually, Tsubaki's reasoning for seeking out the cat went as follows. Blair was very… open about matters of the heart. Wait, let me rephrase that. Blair was a horny little kitten who wouldn't balk at discussing topics like sex dreams. Not only that, she isn't human, which could actually lend a better perspective on a non-human entity like Shinigami than one might think. But she still knew enough about human behavior to understand the problem. She is a fully matured female (at least in one form), so that helps. Also, she isn't directly involved with Shibusen, so there's no conflict of interest there. In addition, Blair worked at a cabaret club. She could be depended upon, as a professional services provider, not to divulge any private information she was entrusted with (I hope). And best of all, her place of employment happened to be frequented by Spirit Albarn, Death's friend and living weapon. This interaction could have granted her some insight onto the Death God's behavior, if Spirit could be counted on to be as reckless with talking about his life as Tsubaki suspected.

When she tried to explain all that, however, what came out of Tsubaki's mouth was, "I really needed someone to talk to."

This simple admission seemed to catch Blair's interest far more than all the detailed insightful explanations that had come before. She studied Tsubaki's downcast face with concern now. "You could get him to want you, Tsubaki-chyan. Easily! You don't even really need my help, you've got everything you need right here."

"NO!"

The cat jumped slightly at this outburst. When she looked up, Blair was amazed to find Tsubaki crying.

"I don't want him to _want _me, I… Oh, I don't know what I want really." She shook her head violently. The tears didn't stop as a result. That didn't matter, though. "Blair-chan, I understand if you don't get it, I mean, even _I _don't get it, and I'm the one feeling this! I've had crushes before, and never expected them to go anywhere. I'm smart enough to recognize that. But _this… _I feel like I've committed a crime! Like I spit on a holy icon, and now I'm cursed as a result! Why can't I just deal with this like I have before? Why am I letting it ruin my life?"

Tsubaki fell to sobbing quietly after that. There was no way to tell if this outpouring would do her any good, but at the very least she had gotten it off her chest. The cat was out of the bag, as it were. She might regret it later, it's true. Still, that would have to wait.

"I feel like such a mess," she muttered.

_POOF!_

Of a sudden the weight on her lap became much heavier. Surprised, Tsubaki opened her eyes to find herself being straddled by a voluptuous young woman in silken black lingerie and leather high-heel boots, all topped by a crazy-looking witch's hat. Golden eyes gleamed playfully on a gorgeous face, purple-tinged black hair spread out around her shoulders. And finally, a pair of stupendous breasts now dangled not an inch from Tsubaki's nose.

"Nyah, Tsubaki-chan."

Manicured hands reached up to bat at the girl's yard-long ponytail idly. In response, the Shadow Weapon managed to raise her sightline out of that eye-popping valley and meet the gaze of the fantastic creature smiling down at her.

And I thought I was embarrassed before. This is a whole different level. Now I know what Soul's always complaining about… kind of.

"That's your problem right there," Blair stated casually, as if they were not both in a very compromising position that any passerby could reasonably interpret as public indecency. "You're looking at him all wrong. You humans always make that mistake of assuming there's some kind of special wall standing between you and Death, when actually he's a very easy guy to get along with!"

"Err…" Tsubaki hoped nobody saw her like this. "W-what do you mean?"

"Just talk to him, treat him like a good-looking tom and he'll be your friend! That's what Blair did when we met, and it's why I'm here today."

"Hold on…" And the girl sat up a little straighter. "You've _met _Shinigami-sama? Like… in person?"

"Uh-huh." Blair wiggled unselfconsciously. "Why so surprised? Who else do you think comes to meet you when you die?"

That took a moment of further consideration. "When did you die, Blair-chan?"

"After I met Maka and my little Soul-kun. Blair tussled with them for a bit, and then they killed me."

"Oh." That's right, she remembered now. A while back Maka and Soul had been one kill away from making a Death Scythe, and then suddenly it was back to square one for them. All that work for nothing. Eventually Maka had admitted they made a slip-up by collecting the soul of a being they thought was a witch. This information hadn't been clarified until the party where they celebrated Soul's release from the hospital and her defeat of Masamune. That was the day she first met Blair.

"You mean you really did _die?"_

"Mm-hmmm." The witch-cat settled back on her hands. "Shinigami had a talk with me then. He said it was their bad for messing up like this, and to express his regrets, I ought to come and live in Death City on my next life, free of charge! I said it was fine if I could stay with Soul-kun, and he said, 'Okie-dokie'!" She gave a little salute the same as Shinigami did. "Just like that."

Tsubaki considered this. So cats really do have nine lives. She was about to ask how in the world Soul and Maka could have agreed to that arrangement, when another question flashed through the Weapon's mind.

"So when he came to speak with you after death… was he still wearing his mask?"

A shake of the head. "Nope. No mask."

Tsubaki's heart began beating a little faster. "Then you know what he looks like."

"Of course! Wouldn't have mattered if he wore a mask or not. Cats see through all kinds of tricks humans don't." She had taken to bouncing cheerfully up and down atop her playmate's lap. Tsubaki actually had to reach up and place her hands on Blair's shoulders to make her stop doing that. Any guy would kill to be in my situation. For me, it's just a trial I have to go through to find out what I want.

She locked eyes with the vivacious charmer. I know it's not truly important, but still, I _wanna know!_ "Blair-chan, if it's not too much trouble, do you think you could tell me what he really looks like?"

"Like a fox."

Huh?

"You mean foxy? Like… he's sexy?"

"He is pretty, but I meant he reminded me of a fox." Her head cocked in remembrance, and she gave a whimsical pout. "He looks like something dangerous but natural, and so you don't want to take your eyes off him. Not that you really have eyes when you're dead! There wasn't any color then except white and not white. But his head is pointy like a fox, graceful unlike other canines, and he can stand up or be on all fours to talk if that makes you comfortable. He was really considerate of Blair, and I liked that! He doesn't have feet, and I guess that's why nobody hears him coming, but he does have legs, and arms. Very long paws, too. No tail, though. And maybe some wings."

Tsubaki tried to form a picture in her mind based on this description but came up short. "I don't understand. Are you saying he looks like an angel? Like a human?"

"He's not human." Blair seemed very adamant about that. "You could never call him human. But I guess if he wanted to, he might pass as one. Or anything else, for that matter."

This was going nowhere. A last-ditch effort had to be made, though. "What about his face? Does he have one?"

Now came an affirmative nod. "Eyes. But he keeps them closed until you're ready for them."

Tsubaki slumped in dejection. So much for final chances. What was I expecting? To find out he was a smoky-eyed Greek god with perfect teeth and black hair? I'm actually even more curious to see what he looks like now. This isn't helping.

Blair seemed to pick up on her crestfallen attitude and craned her head down until they were nose to nose. "So are you going to stalk him or not?"

She really has a feral way of putting things.

"I don't know. What I do know is it was a bad idea to fall for Shinigami-sama in the first place."

"Hmmm." Apparently this emotionally embattled response didn't register with Blair's freewheeling personality. The lovely polymorph tapped one sharp-nailed finger against her lips in a clueless manner. Then her face brightened and she leaned in close once again, causing Tsubaki to draw a sharp breath. "Now you tell me about him!"

"E-excuse me?"

"Yesss! Blair told you her secrets, so you tell me yours! What drew you to him? Was it like with me and Soul-kun? Tell me, tell me!"

Looks like more payment than fish was expected here. Oh, well, the rules of girl talk had to be obeyed. "All right. Before I do, though… do you think you could be a cat again?"

Blair giggled lyrically. "Silly Tsubaki-chan! I'm _always _a kitty-cat!" There came another _POOF_, and once more the black tabby appeared. She leapt up to land lightly on Tsubaki's shoulder and curled around her slender neck. "Confide in Blair! Why do you like him?" she purred.

Her cushion considered this idea for a moment. _Why_ do I like Shinigami-sama? Keeping one hand on her passenger to provide support and petting, Tsubaki watched the sun trail away and tried to shape an answer. I'm not sure if I ever really thought about it. I guess now's as good a time as any.

"Well…" and she stood up then to begin a slow walk out of the park. "Usually I like a guy's looks first, and if he has a nice personality, then I get into him even more. But this time… it was different. When we were talking together that day, I suppose I forgot just who I was speaking to. I've always known he cares about our well-being, but I never realized just how much thought and consideration he gave his students until then. It was a different side of him than I'm used to seeing. Shinigami-sama acts pretty silly around us, like a goofy uncle. I think that might be his way of reassuring us, though."

"Reassuring?" Blair murmured sleepily.

"Yes, so that we're not…"

Tsubaki stopped walking.

So that we're not…

"…afraid of him," she murmured.

For a while she just stood there. A realization was coming upon her slowly, building up bit by bit. Memories came with it. She recalled her first day at school, when she had traveled across the Pacific Ocean to enroll at Death's own training academy. Though she had confidence in her abilities and a very good reason for doing so, Tsubaki remained intimidated by the idea of confronting the very soul of death himself. She remembered looking around at the other students at the assembly and wondering if they were all just as nervous as she was. What sort of frightening figure was about to arise before them, in awesome majesty and eternal supremacy?

Then Shinigami had appeared in a large framed mirror up on stage, and he… he was funny-looking. It definitely wasn't what she had been expecting. Her own country's tales about the appearance of Lord Death hadn't prepared her for the silly specter who greeted them cheerfully. It was actually quite a relief. And honestly, a bit of a let-down too.

At least at first.

His way of speaking wasn't as grandiose as she had imagined. But after a while Tsubaki noticed something else. He never talked down to them. It wasn't like an adult speaking before a group of children, lecturing them and expecting they remain silent until he was done speaking. Not that anyone dared to interrupt. But after welcoming them all, the Death God went on to explain in no uncertain terms that they were going to risk their lives from now on, and they deserved to be thanked for that right off the bat. It was a surprise to be addressed in that way, and by a god no less. Weren't mortals supposed to tender them praise and offerings in order to earn their favor? Tsubaki couldn't recall any stories about gods who thanked you kindly just for showing up somewhere. Despite living in a loving family, she never actually had an adult speak to her that way.

He then asked if the new students had questions they would like to ask him. Tsubaki herself didn't dare, but she remembered clearly that this was owing to her nervousness about speaking out in front of that large crowd. It was not about the person she would be addressing. After partnering with Black*Star officially and being summoned before their school's headmaster for confirmation, the bashful ninja recalled being dismayed by her chosen meister's audacity in the face of Death. But one thing she hadn't been was afraid.

The fearful awe she had held for him never appeared again. From that first day on, he was one more person in the world who cared about her. A permanent source of support for everyone under his tutelage.

He expects us to be scared of the things we're going to face. But he doesn't want us to be afraid of him. And why should we? Everyone has to meet him eventually. Death shouldn't be looked upon with dread. He was a wonderful person, human or not. He was a… great guy.

"When he showed me how powerful he really was," Tsubaki finally stated as she resumed her trek, "I think I forgot the person I had come to view him as, and remembered to be afraid of him again. That old fearful reverence for the Death God came back out of hiding. But if you recognize what you're afraid of, you can also see a way to come out on top against it. That's what they teach us here at Shibusen. And yes, he is incredibly powerful. If he wanted to, he could kill everyone and everything in the world, maybe! But the thing is, he _doesn't _want to! He takes care of us and protects our lives up until it's time for us to come over to his way of being. What's that old saying? 'Fear thee not the Reaper'. And it's true. Shinigami-sama doesn't represent fear to me. He's the one who takes away our fears. And he even shows us how to do it ourselves. It's the reason behind the DWMA. And I'm grateful for it."

Blair appeared to have fallen asleep by this point. Tsubaki continued their journey absorbed in her own thoughts then.

It was a privilege to be held by him. Maybe my subconscious confused fear with desire on some level. Psychologists say thoughts of sex and death make up our most basic selves. They're both revelations, I suppose. Or maybe the fact that I imagined myself sleeping with him was my sense of reason trying to tell me that I don't have anything to be afraid of concerning Death. He's a sheltering presence. The way he behaves towards his students is so we don't feel uncomfortable when we're near him. Or it could be the realization that Death is a person too made me automatically group him into the category of people who are boys. He's a male persona, a masculine figure. Considering my own sexual tastes, that automatically made Shinigami-sama a potential partner. And isn't that what every Weapon wants, to be Death's chosen partner, the Death Scythe?

We want to please him, to be of use to Death in his fight against evil. That's something I don't need to doubt about myself. And I've been worried lately, haven't I? About not being able to accomplish that goal. Could it be that my brain desired to be of value to Shinigami-sama in some way; if not as a weapon, then as a lover?

So then to be sure I never have to feel that way, all I have to do is become a Death Scythe.

That's all.

Hands clasped behind her back, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa walked the lanes of Death City. Her face held a contented smile, and her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

Keep dreaming, girl, she advised herself.

* * *

Black*Star strutted confidently down the guillotine-lined passageway. "So Master Shinigami wants to congratulate us in person?"

"That is not what I said," Sid remarked back. "If you'll recall, my exact words were, 'Shinigami-sama wants to explain something to you and he wants to do it face-to-face so that there is no…"

"I bet he heard how we aced that last remedial assignment!" The cocky smirk Black*Star wore defended him against any and all arguments to the contrary. "But if he wants to shake my hand or whatever, I really think it should be done in front of the whole school, so they get a good idea about how high I've risen."

Sid made no further comment. For her part, Tsubaki couldn't help but be worried. The success her partner was referring to involved commandeering a busload of foreign aid workers and using it to plow through a wall of Senegalese zombies. Considering his complete ignorance of how a motor vehicle operated, it was a minor miracle nobody onboard died. Upon making it past the encirclement, he and Tsubaki had then fought their way through an airport of cyborg flesh-eaters in order to reach the CEO of the evil Parasol Company responsible for creating the latest viral-zombie menace plaguing the world. The villainous businessman and his entire board of directors were then thoroughly cremated when their private jet was prevented from taking off by having a fuel tanker covered with flaming zombies rammed into it, also courtesy of Black*Star. The resulting explosion not only destroyed Senegal's only international airport, it blew the evil souls of their targets to God-knows-where. And so, after inflicting tremendous property damage and only narrowly managing to survive themselves, she and her technician had returned home empty-handed.

In the face of all that, the hyperactive little disaster zone's only reaction was to wonder if Shibusen could give him a driver's license. Black*Star behind the wheel of a car again; the mere thought made Tsubaki cringe.

I hope Medusa-sensei has an open calendar today. Something tells me she's going to need it.

At last the trio entered the wall-less chamber in which meisters and weapons were permitted to converse with the Death God. Tsubaki felt her body heat increase when she saw that indeed Shinigami-sama was actually in the room, not simply appearing via the grand mirror on the plinth before them. Spirit Albarn stood by his wielder's side with hands stuffed in his rumpled black suit. Neither of them betrayed any trace of emotion.

"Shinigami-sama," their cadaverous escort began, "Here are B-"

"YOH, MASTER SHINIGAMI!"

Death turned from conversing with his red-headed assistant to face them squarely. Was there any trace of anger in that featureless white façade? Probably not. All the more reason to be worried. Please remember, you cherish all your students, not just the ones who are legally sane.

"Ah, here you kids are." The black-clad deity nodded his head. "Yup, that's great. Thanks for coming on such short notice! There's something very important I'd like to discuss with you."

Black*Star was rocking back and forth on his heels with arms crossed over his chest. "I wish you could have seen the bonfire of baddies we lit in your name. It was huge! Too bad you weren't there for a front row seat like I was!"

"Actually, we got a very good picture on the satellite feed," Spirit declared darkly. "It was broadcast all over the world. You even got in the cameraman's face and demanded a close-up!"

"So? I said 'Bon jour' before my speech, didn't I? If the natives couldn't understand me, they should learn Japanese! Or English."

The Star clan's only surviving member seemed not to notice how close his line was to extinction. Tsubaki smiled timidly at their glowering judges. Love the sinner, hate the sin, right, Shinigami-sama?

"Black*Star, I wanted to chat with you personally because I felt this episode deserved it." Shinigami slid forward until he loomed large right before them. "For a case of such magnitude, I gotta make sure the point gets hammered home."

Tsubaki thought she had a good idea what was coming next and felt no shame in surreptitiously edging away from the vicinity of her ally. Forgive me, Black*Star.

The boy in question only broke out an even bigger grin. "If you wanna pin a medal to me, it better be made of all the gold in Fort Knox! Anything less and I…"

_"SHINIGAMI CHOP!"_

A huge white glove fell and all but split Black*Star's head open. As he dropped limply to the floor, Death lifted one finger and wagged it before his bleeding face. "You are not licensed to drive in any country. Please don't forget that from now on."

A weak moan was his only response.

"Glad we're on the same page." Shinigami then turned to Tsubaki, who prepared herself to receive more of the same. Instead, he only flipped her a thumbs-up and said, "Thanks for making sure all the civilians got out safe, Tsubaki-chan. Not to mention bringing our little Black*Star home in one piece. You're doing a super-duper job."

She ducked her head, hands clasped before her. "Thank you, Milord."

"That's all for now, bye-bye!"

He waved goodbye and then turned back to talk to Spirit. Sid proceeded to hoist Black*Star's broken body over one shoulder and carried him back the way they came. As Shinigami was about to start speaking to his Death Scythe, Albarn cleared his throat and pointed meaningfully behind him.

Surprised, Death turned to see Tsubaki still standing unmoving in the same spot.

"Tsubaki-chan, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?" he asked.

She didn't respond at first. Her eyes remained rooted to the floor. After a few seconds, though, Tsubaki raised a hand hesitantly and made a beckoning gesture. It looked as though she wanted him to come closer.

Shinigami and Spirit glanced between each other. Neither knew what was going on. Finally the Reaper glided over and bent down 'til he was just a foot away from her bowed head.

"Er, are you all right, dear?"

_*TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER-IMAGINATIVE PREVIEW!*_

_Without warning the gentle shinobi grabbed his mask and yanked it off to reveal…_

You know something? No.

No more previews. I'm through being scared.

Without warning, Tsubaki reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck in a soft hug.

Taken aback by this unforeseen display of affection, Death was further surprised when she whispered softly, "Thank you for being you, sir."

Tsubaki let go, and Death drew himself upright to gaze down at her in honest befuddlement. What had brought that on, he wondered to himself?

Rather than offering an explanation, the beautiful Weapon smiled and bowed to them both. She then hurried to catch up with Sid. Nothing to be afraid of, and Tsubaki grinned with a small blush. I'll get to see him one day. It's a given. And with that she was content.

"Hrm." Shinigami rubbed his mask nervously with one finger. Spirit walked up beside him, and when he looked down, the lecherous divorcee only shrugged helplessly back, as if to say, 'Kids, who can understand them? Not me.'

They both returned to watching the brave young woman slipping calmly away.

Spirit crossed his arms and nodded in admiration. "You know, boss, that girl's going to make an incredible Death Scythe one day."

"Yes, indeed," Shinigami affirmed. "Of that I have no doubt."

He glanced down at his left hand, moving the fingers slowly back and forth in their glove.

The memory of holding her came back to him then. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa will definitely become a great Death Scythe, one of the best ever.

Pity I won't be the one to wield her, he reflected.

The disappointment this thought engendered in him surprised even Death. And here he had thought himself prepared for everything. Apparently existence still held surprises in store even for a shinigami.

Hopefully by then Kidd will have gotten over his obsession with twos. He's my son, so he should appreciate superior quality. Well, if not, she's adaptable. I'm sure she'll find a way to accommodate him. After all, it's her specialty.

Feeling a desire to be alone, Shinigami dismissed Spirit and retreated back into his mirror.

That night Tsubaki knew contented sleep, and it was Death who dreamed.

_FIN._


End file.
